Quite a modern worldling he, Shallow and devoid of faith,-- So the plaintiffs he dismissed Both in mockery and scorn.
The alleged official trade Of Uraka's honest quite, For she deals in mountain-herbs And in birds that she has stuffed.
Her entire hut was crammed With such relics. Horrible Was the smell of cuckoo-flowers, Fungi, henbane, elder-blooms.
There a fine array of hawks To advantage was displayed, All with pinions stretching wide And with grim enormous bills.
Was it but the breath of these Maddening plants that turned my brain? Still the vision of these birds Filled me with the strangest thoughts.
These perchance are mortal wights, Bound by sorcery in this Miserable state as birds Stuffed and most disconsolate.
Sad, pathetic is their stare, Yet it hath impatience too, And, methinks at times they cast Sidelong glances at the witch.
She, Uraka, ancient, grim, Crouches low beside her son, Mute Lascaro near the fire Where the twain are casting slugs.
Casting that same fateful ball Whereby Atta Troll was slain. How the lurching firelight flares O'er the witch's features gaunt!
Ceaselessly, yet silently Move her thin and quivering lips. Are those magic spells she murmurs That the balls may travel true?
Now and then she nods and titters To her son. But he is deep In the business of the casts And sits silently as Death.
Overcome by fevered fears, Yearning for the cooler air, To the window then I strode And looked down the gulches dim.
All that in that midnight hour I beheld, all that will I Faithfully and featly tell In the canto that shall follow.
'Twas the night before Saint John's, In the fullness of the moon, When that wild and spectral hunt Fills the Hollow Way of Ghosts.
From the window of Uraka's Little cabin I could see All that mighty host of wraiths As it drifted through the gorge.
Yea, a goodly place was mine Wherefrom I might well behold The tremendous spectacle Of the raised, carousing dead.
Cracking whips, hallo! hurrah! Neigh of horses, bark of dogs, Laughter, blare of huntsmen's horns-- How the tumult echoed there!
Dashing in advance there came Stags and boars adventurous In a solid pack; behind Charged a wild and merry rout.
Huntsmen come from many zones And from many ages too. Charles the Tenth rode close beside Nimrod the Assyrian.